


Liar

by Hey Future Fish (PoisonedDeath)



Series: Trans Setter Squad [6]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Depression, Gen, Self-Harm, Trans Character, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-13
Updated: 2016-11-13
Packaged: 2018-08-30 20:13:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8547574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PoisonedDeath/pseuds/Hey%20Future%20Fish
Summary: The lie Tooru could tell with his face, with his mouth, could not be told by his body.





	

**Author's Note:**

> If the tag isn't enough of a warning, this entire fic is about self-harm, so be safe, guys <3

If there was one word Oikawa would use for himself, it was _liar_ _._ That very word had been written onto his skin with a razor blade when he was 14, and even now, at 18, he proved it daily. His legs were covered with wounds - cuts, scabs, scars - that varied in size and depth. Varied in severity, yet told the same tale. The lie Tooru could tell with his face, with his mouth, could not be told by his body. He hid it well, but some days, he didn't want to hide it at all. Perhaps he was an attention seeker, but people would stop at that and would never consider why. Tooru's always been a liar. That's what he'd always done best, and what he'd continue to do.

He only vaguely remembers the first time the blade kissed his skin - twelve years old with desperation bubbling through him, ripping him apart. It hadn't been planned, and he'd promised himself that he'd never do it again. Again and again, though, even six years later, he'd find himself in this position - back against the wall of his room, examining the blade, twisting it between his fingers. He'd undo his belt, and shuffle his hips forward to take off his pants, before inhaling and bring that blade down. There was no instant relief for him, just a steady alleviation of the weight that sat on his shoulders, fluttering away with each and every slash, every cut that would decorate his skin. Layers of cuts, over layers of scabs, _over layers of scars_ , hidden by layers of clothes. And then he'd let them bleed, not even bothering to press anything to them, never washing the blood away. He'd clean them in the morning. Not even the deepest would be cared for, because Tooru didn't want to care for that liar anymore.

The next day, he'd clean up, and head out to school with that fake act, and his fake words to cover his true feelings. He'd head out to school to be met with praise and he'd play his part well. But the exhaustion was always there, and so was the knowledge that he was nothing more than a worthless liar.


End file.
